Aliorge
by Necevi
Summary: Step into the life of Alicia Spinnet and George Weasley, who no one should steal a chocolate frog from. Or 6. ASxGW R
1. Right Then and Chocolate Frogs

**Summary- **Step into the life of Alicia Spinnet and George Weasley, who no one should steal a chocolate frog from. Or 6. ASxGW R&R

**Rated For-** Mostly language. I never get too crude or anything, but there may be some things that younger readers won't particularly enjoy. Not in the first few chapters though (It takes awhile for any true romance to happen).

**Other-** Yeah. If you don't like it, don't read it. Review would be appreciated. Flame too. Yeah, seriously- how do I know if it sucks if no one tells me? First fan fic that I've written that I actually like. Enjoy.

"Oi! Ang!" Sheesh. Honestly, one day I am going to drag that girl to St. Mungo's and tell them to fix her hearing. It's indescribable how deaf she gets at some points. And yes, I am completely aware of the fact that I just described it.

Anyway, I'd been trying to get Angelina's history notes for 15 minutes to no prevail. Now, 10 minutes is understandable for my dear-little-deaf-friend. But when she hits 15, it means something wrong.

"Hmm?" Yes! Score one for Alicia. I, Alicia Spinnet, have actually managed to get through! Thank Merlin.

"I was asking if I could see your history notes. Somewhere between 'there was a goblin war in the 1600's' and 'class dismissed', I zoned out.

This statement completely confirmed that something was wrong with her. For, instead of a snippy comeback stating that the point where I zoned out was probably only the second sentence, I was answered with two words.

"Oh. Yeah."

And the shuffling of paper as she handed me the notes.

Yipes. What was wrong with this girl? Because there _was_ something. My job now, as long time best friend, was to dig it out of her. And help her if I could.

Which I usually couldn't. Because dear Angelina was as complicated as people got. But that's beside the point.

"Alright Ang. I'm going to ask once, and you can answer right away and make it easy on yourself, okay? Right then," I leaned in closer to her, something hard to do when you're separated from a person by a large circle table. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

That liar. I've known the girl for 5 freaking years- does she honestly think that I'm just going to take that as an answer?

So I try again. "Ang, I will force it out of you eventually. You know that."

And I must be _on_ today, because -hold the applause- she answered!

"Fine, fine. No laughing though." She stares at me pointedly with this. 'Cause I kind of have thing where I laugh. At bad times.

But not this time. Honestly. "Promise, Angie. Now tell! I'm on, like, the edge of my seat." And this proved to be true, because I promptly fell off and had to glare at two nearby second-years who laughed.

Ang was hesitant, and I swear I was going to whack her. You don't just hold out on someone like this! You tell! Especially when that someone is your best friend.

"Well, 'Licia, remember, you promised you wouldn't laugh at me?" I nod. I'm still on the edge of my seat, this time being careful to stay on it. "Well… IkindahaveathingforFred."

"I didn't catch a word of that Ang. Let's do it again, slower."

"I kinda have a thing for Fred."

Woah. Woah. Woah. "Fred? Fred _Weasley?_ Are we talking about the guy who, just last week on the Hogwarts Express, dumped water all over us?" She glared. "Okay, you. But still- that Fred Weasley?"

She nodded, and it was all I could do not too laugh. I mean I honestly couldn't see the two together. They absolutely hated each other.

"Soo…" I started asking casually. "What are you going to do about it?"

Angelina was sending me death glares, and I figured that _probably _wasn't the right question.

And so I dropped it. Completely. She obviously wasn't answering me anytime soon.

I went back to attempting to write about some goblin that fought another goblin and trying to make it 2 scrolls long, and was honestly making progress on it now that I actually had information for it, when I was interrupted.

Guess who did it? Go on, guess.

Fred and George Weasley, in all their glory (or lack of) grabbed up chairs and sat on either side of me. Joy.

"What do you want to copy now, Weasley?" I asked, not directing it at either in particular.

George (well, I think it was George) clutched his chest. "I'm hurt- no, _offended_- that you would think that of us."

Pffh. Yeah right. He's about as offended as Katie Bell when someone says she looks good that day.

"So potions then?"

"You got it." Fred (or again, I thought it was Fred) grinned, and I sighed and handed over a potions essay I had just finished.

Feeling like making fun of someone, I poked the twin to my right. "So Fred. Planning on failing another test sometime soon?"

Angelina, who had been silent and slightly red since the Weasleys arrived, spoke up. "George."

Now, I'm not going to pretend to be an expert on Ang's one-word sentences, so I raised an eyebrow. "Hmm?"

She obviously thought I was a moron for not knowing what she was talking about. "I _said_ that that one," She pointed to him. "Is Fred, and that one," a point to the other. "Is George."

What the hell? How could she _tell_? They both looked exactly the same.

So, while Fred and George were copying my work, and Ang was working on… whatever it was she was working on, I started studying the twins, looking for any possible differences.

And, bored with my essay, I wrote them down.

George's eyebrows are bushier

Fred's hair is about an inch longer

I think Fred has wider eyes than George

I got that far before George noticed, and smiled.

"That's sweet 'Lic. You really think about us that much?"

I hit him in the shoulder and finally got back to my essay.

----

Finally done, I packed up my stuff and headed up to the girls dorm to join Angelina (who had finished ages before me).

Wouldn't you know it, she was already asleep. Which meant I had to find a source of entertainment elsewhere (because 11:00 was way too early to fall asleep).

So I went to visit Katie, a fellow chaser and one-year-younger fourth year.

"Alicia!" Katie cried out when I reached her room, sitting on her bed surrounded by the thing I like most about her- chocolate.

See, Miss. Bell never fails to have chocolate nearby. Something I will forever love about her.

Grabbing a chocolate frog, I jumped onto her bed ('_Hey!_') and started eating.

"What brings you here?" Katie asked, like she didn't know. I was bored. So sue me.

"How are you and Mark?" Mark was this 6th year Ravenclaw she'd been dating for a few months (which was saying something for Katie).

She groaned. "Lately, not so good. He's just getting so _boring_!"

And that would be Katie for you. Goes through boyfriends in a snap, gets bored with them easily. She's not slutty or anything, but we're all used to it.

And so I steered the conversation away from that by taking a large bite of my frog and trying to tell her something.

"Nglwina fawncees Fwed."

Katie stared at me. "What the hell did you just say?"

Swallowing, I repeated it. "Angelina fancies Fred."

Katie just kinda stared at me. For a few minutes. And it was getting really creepy.

"Cut it out Katie. Ask her yourself, if you're so amazed by the phino- phyno- phenomenon!" Proud of myself for being able to say that word, I grinned and shoved another Chocolate Frog in my mouth.

And that's how I spent the rest of my night. 3 Chocolate Frogs later, I said goodnight and stumbled to my bed. (Yes, stumbled. I was _tired_).

Then I fell asleep. Huzzah.


	2. Fights and Pink Hair

**Hi-** Yeah. By now you've read what I need to say (or, you probably have if you've seen my last chapter, which would really help you out when reading the second). Enjoy.

Oh, and just quickly…

**hotredhead-** I love you I love you I love you! My first reviewer. I for-sure plan to keep writing this, 'cause it's fun. So keep your eyes open, and thanks again DD;

By the way, I meant to do this as a Alicia's Diary, then George's turn thing, but I got complete inspiration for this chapter. So I've changed my mind, and instead I'll write George's separately.

----

Oh.My.Gosh. I am going to _kill_ Katie Anne Bell. Slowly and painfully. With a spork. Yes. A _spork_.

She actually went up to Angelina and asked her if it was true she fancied Fred. And Angelina was absolutely furious.

At me of course. Because I'm the only one who could have told Katie. Just bloody great. Now, in Angelina's 'Unwritten Rules of Best-Friendship', I was never have supposed to have told Katie, because that was supposed to be Angelina's thing to tell, which it was.

So right now she's sitting across the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. Which wouldn't be so bad if I wasn't afraid that looks could kill.

As it happens, I am. And she's giving me the iciest stare ever.

Did I mention I was going to kill Katie?

She's apologized to me, like, 50 times, but I need someone to return Angelina's glare at someone, so it's being directed straight at Katie.

Aren't I doing a bloody good job at keeping friendships today?

George, Fred, and Lee seemed to realize how thick the tension was, and were keeping their distance. So it was the quietest breakfast I'd ever gone through.

Oh man, I hope we stop fighting soon.

----

Today's first class was (and try not to scream from is thrown over my way. Now, this would be less suprising if my best friend wanted anything to do with me, and my other best frien excitement here), History of Magic. Thank god I had borrowed Ang's notes the other day. Which reminded me- I needed to give them back to her. As soon as she was speaking to me again.

So, I'm sitting there, half-asleep (which is saying something, because usually I'm fully asleep in this class), when a note d was in my year. But, as I'm sure you've figured out, they aren't.

But once I opened it up, I nearly smacked myself for my stupidity. It was from _George._ Duh. I have other friends!

_**Hey, pinky, how's it going?**_

Pinky? What the hell did he mean by that?

_What the hell do you mean by that?_

**_Oh, see, when you ask someone 'how's it going', you're interested in how they're feeling, and what's going on with them._**

Thanks for that Captain Obvious. That cocky little prat…

_I'm perfectly aware of what that phrase means. I believe I was asking about why you were calling me Pinky._

Now I can be obvious too. Fun-n-n.

_**So I'm assuming you haven't noticed your hair yet?**_

What the hell was he talking about? I grabbed for my bag, and got out a pocket mirror (which I had kept around ever since second year, when I had a little incident involving Herbology, and an Abyssinian shrivelfig), and looked at my hair.

Which was pink. PINK!

"GEORGE WEASLEY, YOU HAVE 5 SECONDS TO TELL ME YOU DIDN'T DO THIS!"

He grinned at me. "But that would be lying, 'Licia. Lying is bad."

I lunged at him, surprised that no one was holding me back. But it figures- Professor Binns didn't seem to have noticed yet, Angelina wasn't going to have anything to do with me, while Fred and Lee seemed to be quite enjoying me pounding on George.

"You." Punch. "Little." Punch. "Prat!" Punch.

"Oww, Alicia, okay, I'm sorry. Sheesh, for a girl, you've got some arm."

Grinning in triumph, I got off him, sat down, and asked. "So you going to fix my hair Weasley, or am I going to have to hurt you some more?"

He joined in my grinned, and flicked his wand in the air, returning my hair (as I checked 5 seconds later) to it's normal chocolate brown.

"George, how many times do I have to tell you not to mess with my hair?"

"Every time I mess with it, Alicia."

And Binns still hadn't noticed a thing.

----

After the morning classes, I figured I'd had enough of Ang's silent treatment, so I wanted to fix it.

What better conversation starter than returning past-borrowed items?

"Hey Ang!" I ran down the stairs towards the Hall for lunch, right behind her. She kept walking.

"Come on Angelina, I want to return your History Notes." She stopped for that and turned around. Score!

Having planned this, I already had the papers in my hands, and gave them to her. She nodded at me and continued walking.

"Angelinaaa!" I quickened my pace to keep up with her. "Please, let me say sorry."

"I trusted you Alicia!" She turned around quickly, and I got out of the way of her flying hair. "Then what did you do? You went and told someone."

At least she was talking?

"I told Katie! You were going to eventually, right?"

Angelina shook her head at me. "That's exactly it. _I_ was going to tell her."

Having no answer to this, I sulked. "Great. We have a fight, and it's something I can't pound George for."

She grinned at this, and I pumped my fist. Progress! She laughed at that, and I chanced a small smile.

"Does that mean you're slightly less mad at me?"

She smiled and hugged me. "Yeah, you stupid git. I'm slightly less mad at you." The hug stopped, and she stepped back. "It was a stupid thing to get mad at you for. And besides, Katie was excited enough for the both of us- it's not like she took it badly."

"My gosh Ang, you should hear yourself. '_Not like she took it badly'_- you sound like you have a disease!"

With that, I locked arms with her and dragged her down to where the food was.

----

Later that day, or night, actually, Ang, Kates, and me were up in the library studying. Ang and I were sharing our (okay, her) notes about the Anti-Gravity mist charm that we were going to be experimenting with in charms next class, and Katie was writing a foot of information for Snape (excuse me while I shudder) on the results of leaving out hellebore while making the Draught of Peace.

And she was grumbling the whole freaking time.

"Stupid Snape, the greasy haired git, faulting me for a simple mistake."

"Hey Katie, I think you've used that insult before. About 50 times." Angelina noted sarcastically as she copied down something on how defying gravity worked. Katie, unsurprisingly, ignored her.

"I mean, we aren't even supposed to be _making_ these stupid things until fifth year. Do you ever get the feeling Snape hates you?"

"All the time, dear. Why- did you think you were special?"

Lee Jordan and 'the twins' (as I had taking to calling them ever since an odd conversation at lunch) popped up.

"Don't you people have anything better to do than bug us?" I asked, rolling my eyes as George took a seat next to me.

The mentioned twin shrugged. "Not particularly."

"Besides," Fred drawled as he attempted to copy down Angelina's work, something she pulled away from him while turning slightly pink, "We have a message from Ollie."

All of the girls shot up. It was like that frequency that only dogs could here- We heard Olivers name -er, nickname- and immediately though _'Quidditch'_.

Noticing our interest, Fred smiled. "He did have something to say about our first practice, but if you're going to be rude…" He got up to leave.

"No!" Angelina, Katie and I jumped at him. "What'd he say?"

"Alright, alright! I know I'm attractive, but hands off girls! First practice is on Sunday at 6."

And it didn't matter that I still had to complete a ton of homework, because _Quidditch_ was coming soon.


	3. Quidditch and Double Standards

**Ha-ha-** My two reviewers rock. It's why I'm going to try and keep updating regularly- I'm a show off. I'm greedy. I love the attention, and I love reviewers. And I love being on two peoples 'Favourite stories' list.

So thanks **Anamaga**. You rock .

"Spinnet! I said left! LEFT!"

"I _am_ going left!"

"No, MY left!"

"Well then you should have said so!"

Stupid Oliver Wood and his stupid dawn practices. Stupid Stupid Stupid. Well, if he thinks I'm going to be cheery and play well at 12 AM, he's got another thing coming.

And I swear, if he tells me one more time that I have to drop 2 seconds later, he'll have my fist coming. And connecting. With his face.

"Spinnet!"

"**WHAT?**"

----

How, HOW, is it possible that I was looking forward to the quidditch season? I should have known life would be hell with Wood captain.

Why couldn't he have fallen off a bridge? Or 3?

Practice had ended (finally) at 6, and I had no idea how our prat of a captain expected us to get through the day.

So, grumbling all the way, I stepped into the change room to something nice.

Across the ceiling was a huge 'No More Dawn Practices!' banner, and it doesn't take a genius to know who put that up.

The twins had stepped in after Ang, Katie and me, and took a quick bow, before grabbing quills they both had in their back pocket and signing it.

Fred turned and looked at us chasers. "Aren't you going to sign it? It doesn't mean much if it's just us. What about you Harry?"

Hesitant, Angie took the quill, climbed up on a bench to reach it, and signed it. Katie did the same, and Harry, after being prodded by George, signed in small letters in the corner.

"And what about you, Alicia? We seem to be missing your signature, and with all the noise you made at practice," I hit him "We thought you'd be the first!"

I shrugged. "Everyone else was hogging the quills!" And, in nice, big lettering, wrote "SUPPORTED BY SPINNET" right in the center.

"Now, come on, let's see if we can get changed and out of here before Ollie returns with the balls."

----

Classes that morning were dull. Really dull.

I mean, it _could _have had something to do with the fact that I was barely awake enough to pay attention, thanks to a goddamn quidditch captain (who fortunately hadn't seen us yet).

Speaking of which, I'm in History Of Magic (hence the reason I am able to write this down), and I'm kind of scared to go to lunch next, just because Oliver will be there.

And who knows how badly he'll take it.

He could just laugh, because we didn't cause any physical damage. It's possible, right? I mean, a banner is completely different than protesting plays by flying them upside down and 'accidentally' dropping things on him.

Of course, he could take it badly, because he's Oliver. And Oliver can take anything badly.

Aiee. I need a distraction.

_**Are you going to stop writing in that book and pay attention?**_

Ah. Message from George. Perfect.

_Hypocrite. And besides, how do you know I'm not taking notes? Hmm?_

_**Are you serious with that? Do you ever take notes?**_

_No-o-o… But you don't either. So there._

_**Oh, how clever of you darling. I swear, one day a Slytherin is going to come up and insult you, and your going to make him cry with one word.**_

_Pffh. I'll just shove you in front of me. Should scare them off._

_**Because of my manly physique?**_

_Because of your face._

_**Oh, very clever today indeed.**_

Sarcastic git. He's lucky I love him.

I mean, not LOVE love but FRIEND love…

Right?

----

Ooh, it's lunchtime. Time to see how our dear little Gryffindor quidditch captain took things.

"Do you see him?" Ang whispered to me as we entered the Hall.

"Nope. How hard can it be to spot him? He's 6 foot 3 and has bright red hair."

"Not as red as the Weasley's."

"Not the point Angelina. Still don't see him?

"Nope."

We made our way to the table, still looking like we were mad, swiveling our heads all over the place, until we gave up and took our regular seats at the table, near Fred, George, and Lee.

"Did you see him?" Even though Lee wasn't on the team, he always knew what went on there. And was the main bet-taker on whether or not one of us would die the next week.

We shook our heads and started piling food onto our plates. Or, Angie did. I had a salad.

"Is that _all_ your going to eat?" Ang asked.

Oh here we go. The whole 'If-you-don't-eat-enough-you-could-get-sick-and-die-and-you-really-should-be-eating-more' talk.

I'm _allowed_ to only want a salad for lunch. I'm _allowed_ to only eat a salad for lunch. I'm perfectly healthy, and with the amount I eat at dinner, she really shouldn't complain so much.

But I was spared of yelling this to her when Katie sat down beside me.

"Did you see Oliver?"

All of us shook our heads.

"How could you miss him?" Katie seemed shocked. "He's right over at the Hufflepuff table, lip-locked with Sheila Kay."

Everyone's head swiveled around to face the yellow and black table, except for Katie, who took the opportunity to swipe one of Lee's fries (_'Hey!'_), and stared.

Sure enough, what Katie said was true. There he was, our own 6th year captain, kissing a Hufflepuff beater!

"If you ask me, he's showing complete double-standards. When I dated Roger Davie, he nearly killed me."

Leave it to Katie to notice this. And it was true. I didn't date much, but I went out with a Ravenclaw beater and he spent an hour of practice yelling that I was a traitor.

Well we weren't going to let him get away with _that_, now were we?


	4. Canaries and Snape Complaints

**Oh My Gosh-** Have I mentioned how much I love my reviewers? I have?

**Mr. Nozzers**, you totally made my day. Kudos to you! I would give you a hug, if it were possibly to do that through a computer. But it's not. Which sucks. . 

Same to you **Anamaga.** And you've even made me a favourite author. AND commented on my other story (which, when I read, I totally floated, I loved you so much).

I may not have many reviewers, but the ones I have are the most _awesome_ people in the world.

Anyway…

"Katie, you ready for the Cream tarts?"

"George, you've asked me that five times. Need I remind you of the 54 other pranks I've pulled with you?"

"You've kept count! I'm tearing up here."

And then George kinda half-hugged me (which would be a one armed hug, not a 'I-don't-really-want-to-hug-you' hug) and smiled. "You're backing up Katie remember- do it well!"

And then I kinda blushed. Blushed? I shouldn't be blushing. It's a freaking hug. Get over it Spinnet.

But, in case you couldn't figure out what we were doing, and I completely wouldn't blame you for it because I haven't been very clear with it, I'll fill you in.

See, our Gryffindor captain, our dear Gryffindor captain, was being a hypocrite. And again, we couldn't let that happen.

So it was time to get a bit of payback. Fred and George were going to stumble in, arms full with food (like they always do), and give me and Katie a plate of cream tarts, one of them being charmed to that it'll quickly turn someone into a canary, then back. Canary creams or something. I have absolutely no idea how, and whenever I ask the twins about it they shrug and say 'maybe you'll find out one day'.

But that's beside the point. Anyway, since Katie's the most manipulative of us, she goes over and convinces Oliver to take the Canary cream, and I'm right behind her eating a regular tart so he thinks they're fine.

Or something along those lines.

Either way, it's going to be bloody brilliant. And it'll give him the quick scare he needs after setting double standards.

'Course, it'll also mean we run 10 more laps at practices. But right now, that doesn't sound so bad.

"Alicia!" Katie was hissing at me.

"Hmm?"

"It's time."

And with that, she pointed towards the exit of the Gryffindor common room, where incoming (I know, exit, incoming- ignore it) were two red head twins and one dread-locked boy, arms filled with food.

As George (who seemed to have take complete control of this) handed the plate of creams he had to me, while pointing out to Katie and me which one was charmed.

"Oh Oliver!"

And Katie went at it, convincing him to try one (_'It's not like your physique is going to be ruined because you have one thing! I mean, can you honestly get fat from a cream tart?'_), I stood there obiediently, cream in hand, staring at it, and trying to spot any differences between this one and the one Oliver was about to bite into.

I didn't see any. Kudos to the twins.

The following moment was absolutely priceless. There stood our captain, eating, when -poof- there stood a large canary, then feathers started dropping, and there stood Oliver again.

"T-that. Was. FANTASTIC!" I was laughing like an idiot, something George was quick to point out to me.

"You're laughing like an idiot."

I would have hit him, but I was doubled over.

Everyone else was the same, and I even saw Angelina wipe a tear from her eye.

Life was good- until I bit into mine.

It was the strangest sensation- first, I was kinda squimish, the my body just popped, and I was a canary, and I started… molting, and I was standing there as a human again.

"George?"

He was laughing as hard as I was before.

"You should have seen your face!"

"Yeah, yeah, it looked like a canary. Now George?"

"Yes, Alicia dearest?"

"Run."

----

Ten punches later (and after hearing _'I'm sorry!'_ 26 times), I got tired and decided to leave the party and get some sleep. I mean, it would probably help if I had at least one day this year where I went into class not looking like I've been up for 2 weeks.

So I went to sleep.

Exciting, was it not?

----

Oh man. Oh man oh man oh man. Oliver is so mad at us, and I think I'm the only one worried.

For all that I yell at him louder than anyone, and disregard him more than anyone, I think I get the most worried when he's mad.

He totally didn't find the canary thing funny. At all. And we have practice tonight.

We're so dead.

Angelina's currently reading over my shoulder and telling me that if he killed us, he'd have no one to play the game in two weeks. And that he'd miss us.

I'm so sure. He'd miss us like he misses being a canary.

But it would mean he wouldn't have anyone to play… So I am now slightly less worried about whether or not I live through practice.

Good job Angenlina!

Oh, stop looking so smug.

----

Since nothing exciting happened this morning at breakfast, or morning classes (though my teachers did call on me more- maybe it's the whole looking awake thing? I mean, I'm starting to look like I'm actually _prepared_), I'll skip straight to afternoon classes.

And no, nothing exciting happened at lunch either.

How can you spell 'hell' with two words? Double. Potions.

(Don't shudder yet- it gets worse)

The thing about potions isn't that it's a bad subject- in fact, I can whip up a great Confusing Concoction, as I have proved on a few occasions. The bad thing about potions is the teacher.

Not only is he the foulest mannered, greasy haired, ugly git of a teacher, but he also favours the Slytherins so-o-o much that you just want to scream. Our own one-day-I-want-to-kill-you 'Professor' Snape.

And guess what else makes Double Potions on Thursday worse?

That's right. _We have it with Slytherin!_

And somehow, someway, Snape always manages to put either Ang or me with one of them.

So, as Ang and I were walking to the dungeons that day, we were taking bets as to whether or not it would be me.

"I mean, he's placed me with Warrington twice in a row now, so I figure it _has_ to be you." Was Angelina's theory.

I didn't agree. "Ang, this is the man who is completely lives to make his student's lives a misery. Now, honestly, since this is true, do you believe he sets a pattern? Do you believe he's trying to be predictable? No way. He's completely screwing with us, and you're totally stuck with Warrington again."

"Eww."

"What?"

"You said he's 'screwing with us'. Do you have any idea how_ wrong_ that sounds?"


	5. Warrington and Bad Chapters

**Hello, faithful readers-** Well, the few of you there are anyway. I get to be excited right now- I'm on people's favourite stories list- me! How awesome is that?

**Apology-** I would like to apologize to ever reader who has been scared for life by the last few sentences of the last chapter. I didn't mean to hurt anyone, honestly!

Thanks again **Anamaga**, you're, like, my most faithful reader. And I'm glad you like the chapter. Even if it did slightly scare you.

**ILUVmichi**, a lot of people (well, two) seemed to… like that line. And I'll see if I want to put the practice in this chapter or the next.

And thank you **mr. arlington**, for the great comments- Alicia and George have always been my fave pairing, and I needed to make my first good story one of them.

And **xtotallyatpeacex** (though you reviewed my other story, not this one)- ZOMG! I got a review from the author of Misery Loves Company. That's, like, the best.story.ever. Oh, and thanks for your comments- I'll keep what you've said in mind.

Well, it's about time I get on with the story, isn't it?

Ugh. My body went completely cold- and not because of dementors.

I've just been paired up with Warrington.

Someone gag me.

And if that's not bad enough, I now owe Ang 2 galleons.

You'd really think Warrington would get sick of partnering up with Ang or me, but he seems to get some perverse pleasure out of it. Or at least, that's what I gather because, while working with me, he'll look over at his friends and snicker. A lot.

I swear, I'll yell at him if he keeps it up.

I should probably go work on that potion (damnit- he snickered again!). If Snape's going to try and ruin my life by placing me with scumbags, I won't let him.

----

"Spinnet."

"What _now _Warrington?"

"Hurry up and pass me the Jobberknoll feathers!"

"We don't need them."

"It's a truth syrum- of course we need them."

"But we're modifying it- and we're going to modify it by removing the Jobberknoll feathers and replacing them with ginger roots."

"Says who?"

"I think it's pretty obvious that _I'm_ saying it."

And stupid Warrington was like that all the time. Joy. I got to be stuck with a pompous moron for double potions.

Can you see the smile on my face? No? Well, that's good, because I can't either.

It was so bad that I'm currently skipping my lunchtime salad to write about it (which Angie and Katie have already screamed at me 3 times for).

Anyway, back to potions.

From the dialog, you can tell we were modifying truth serums. Now, since my damned partner couldn't think of anyway to do it, it all fell back on me. I had read that you could imitate the effect of Jobberknoll feathers by cutting up ginger roots very finely.

Seeing as he couldn't come up with anything better, we were going for that. Or, I was. He didn't seem to notice when I was talking, or when I was working, or when I was yelling at him to get the bloody hell to work.

So was it my fault that, while cutting up said ginger roots, he reached over for them, not knowing they weren't done, and got his finger cut? I think not.

Unfortunately, Snape didn't agree.

"Miss Spinnet, do you make it a habit to cut people's hands when they are trying to complete a potion that you so clearly weren't pulling your weight on?"

Wasn't pulling my weight on? WASN'T PULLING MY WEIGHT ON? I was doing the whole bloody thing!

Fortunately, I didn't tell him this. Instead, I played the 'what-are-you-saying' card, and kept quiet.

Didn't work very well.

"I asked you a question Spinnet."

"If I made a habit of it, this wouldn't be the first time, now would it?"

Crap. That came out wrong.

"15 points from Gryffindor for your insolence. And take Mr. Warrington up to the Hospital Wing to get his finger taken care of."

"But he can go up there himself! It's not like he's unconscious- his fingers cut for crying out loud!"

And I think I yelled that a little too loudly, because that's when Snape started sneering (something that's never a good thing).

"5 more points from Gryffindor. Need I remind you that it is _your_ fault that his finger is in this condition? Now go."

With that, I stormed out, headed for the Hospital Wing.

But apparently I'd forgotten the reason I was going there in the first place. How do I know?

Because the 'reason' caught up with me.

"Y'know, when you're escorting someone somewhere, you usually wait for them." And I nearly laughed at this. Was _Warrington_, the no good Slytherin waste-of-a-prefect-position schooling _me_ on manners?

Without the energy for a snippy comeback, I just shrugged it off.

"Get bent."

Clever, eh? Clever enough to keep him quiet the rest of the way.

But as soon as we got within 10 feet of Madame Pomphrey, he immediately clutched his finger and started gasping with what I assume he thought sounded like pain.

"What's the matter dear?" Pomphrey came rushing over. "Oh, nasty finger cut."

Oh, give me a break. It's a small, shallow cut that you can heal in a few seconds. Get over it!

And so, as she waved her wand and made the time we spent getting there look absolutely pointless, I was already leaving.

"Spinnet. What did I tell you about waiting?"

Gah. Warrington still thinks I care.

Nothing write-down worthy happened after that (except Warrington making a few pathetic attempts at being superior- none of which worked), and therefore I'll move on to lunch. Because lunch makes everything better.

----

Yeah, so (after skipping my salad to write the last entry) I'm pretty hungry. I mean, can't blame me right? I skipped breakfast.

And so, with the few minutes I have left to eat, I grab a sandwich.

Which makes Angelina uber-happy.

"Oh good! You've been listening! A salad is not a healthy lunch!"

I'm going to choose _not_ to point out that a salad is healthy, and eat my sandwich. Which (haha- sandwich which. Together they sound funny) seems to be the right decision, because Ang is happy for the rest of lunch.

"So, 'Licia…" George says, completely pretending to be sly –something which doesn't work on him-, "How were things with Ickle-Warrington?"

Instead of answering that, I'm going to shove you at him, and have him read that entry.

"And that entry _only_ George. You read any others and I'll hit you."

"Okay, I got it. Now lemme see!"

A/N- Sorry for the awful chapter. I got really uninspired. The next one will have a bunch of quidditch and you'll see how practice turns out, so that should be better, 'kay?


	6. Laps and More Laps

**Mach 31st, '06-** Hey guys. Wondering where Necevi went?

Well I hope so. 'Cause that would make me feel special.

See, I would've loved to be updating, but no. I had to catch a severe case of the flu (and I don't mean the stay-at-home-with-chicken-noodle-soup flu), and had to spend the last little while in the hospital.

Blech.

So, now that I'm out, I'm ready to update again. Everything below this note, and up to the blessed cup of coffee was written before I was sick. Enjoy.

**----**

'**Ey there!-** Don't mind me as I quickly reply to my reviews. 'Cause I love them so.

**Anamaga (who is now Buffy the Mary Sue killer, but who I will continue calling Anamaga)-** I'm running out of nice things to say to you! Let's just say… Oh! I'm glad my sandwich thing was liked, because it's a huge joke here at home. And I love you more than ever for it (though that's pretty darn hard because I loved you to begin with). Ha- I sound like a stalker.

And I'm still waiting for a The Parody of All Major Stories, Big or Small update.

**Xtotallyatpeacex-** I love that you reviewed each chapter. And eww for grammar issues. See, I'm a quick writer (which is another way to say type-fast-with-mistakes), and a bad looker-over (which is another way to say lazy-fixing-mistakes), so I'll try to get better with that. Same with the numbers thing. And I love that you, like Anamaga, get my sick little jokes.

Woo. And Misery Loves Company rocks. Seriously, if I wasn't so lazy, it'd be one of my top stories, and I would have reviewed it a million times over. But I am so lazy.

**Kiricat-** Yay for new reviewers! Love the comments, and hope you enjoy the following chapter. And I'm uber-glad you like my writing.

Anyway, let's get on with the story, shall we? Please be advised that there is a considerably larger amount of swearing in this chapter than the others.

----

Oh god. I'm so freaking tired. Damn that Oliver Wood. Damn him to hell!

So yesterday, after having a less-than-good day and skipping dinner for our practice, we got out to meet our be-damned captain, and we're shocked.

Because, and this is freaky, he's _smiling_.

"You guys do realize that his smile means we're running ten more laps today, don't you?" Fred's smiling, but we all know inside he's hoping Oliver has a large blind spot that makes him miss things hung across ceilings and enjoys being turned into a canary.

Of course, so are we. Extra laps are evil. Pure evil.

Which would explain why Oliver likes them so much. But I'm getting away from my story, so, really, I'll try and focus here (of course, that has just been made much easier by dear Angelina, who has dropped a cup of coffee in front of me. Merlin bless her).

So, we walk up to him and wait for our 'I-am-your-captain-and-I-decide-things-about-practices-and-you-listen-and-follow-without-complaint' speech/screamfest, but it never comes.

Just kidding.

"What the hell was that? I work my ass off for this team, coming up with new plays, and you show disrespect in return? I am your captain and I decide things about practices…"

That's where I tuned him out. Honestly, you'd think with all the times he'd have to yell at us, he'd come up with something new. Still, at this point the whole team is okay with the yell because it usually means we don't get anything else.

Unfortuneately, I decided to tune back into his speech when he started talking about what we'd be doing that practice.

"Today we're going to be testing your stamina. One hundred laps. On foot. Move."

What the effing hell? Did I hear that right?

"Er- Oliver? Did you just-"

"Yes Spinnet, I said one hundred laps. I don't know which part of it is so hard to understand that you haven't started running yet." Oliver glared, and I ran. What else do you do?

Forty eight and a half laps later, I'm the first one to collapse. I skipped dinner for practice, and had a freaking sandwich for lunch- what was he expecting?

And do I get any sympathy? No-o-o. Our bastard captain screams for me to get up, but I can't. I physically can't. My brain is saying get up, but my body isn't responding.

"SPINNET! When I say get up, you get up! If you can't do this, you _still_ get up, and you get off my quidditch pitch!"

Oh, that sonofabitch. At that point, I didn't care that my bones are nearly literally creaking. I heave myself up (slowly), and keep running. Nobody tells me I can't do something.

I'm starting to get a rhythm to the whole running thing.

"Ow!" Run two steps. "Ow!" Run three steps. "Ow!" Run two steps.

Katie's on the ground, but she's on the other side of the pitch and I can't help her out yet. Besides, I barely have enough energy to keep going myself.

Doesn't matter anyway, because then Oliver yelled for us to get over to him (though he used quite a few more colourful words- for someone who wasn't running, he was touchy).

Stumbling over to him, I see George a few steps behind me, and I stop to let him catch up. As soon as he's beside me, I lean against him.

And it really tells you how tired he was that he didn't make a comment about me 'secretly being in love with him', which he usually does half the time I touch, hit, or scream at him.

So we make our way over to our damned captain, to be joined by Angelina, who is supporting (or being supported by) Katie. Fred catches up, and soon we're traveling as a pack. A great big lean-on-me pack. (A/N- Don't ask about the 'lean-on-me' pack. If you were in my grade eleven algebra class, you'll know)

"That was pathetic. You should have all been able to do it easily."

Damn Oliver Wood. Thinks he's so great.

"You.Try.It." Even though I only have the breath for a few words, I can glare at him near as well as ever.

He glared back, and, him not being tired, was much more successful.

"I don't have to Spinnet. I'm the captain. Now everyone, mount your brooms. We're going to have a practice game."

"No."

"What'd you say Weasley?"

"It.Wasn't.Just.Him."

"Then what'd you say Johnson?"

"Not.Just.Them."

"Quiet Bell."

"Still.Not.All.Of.Them."

'Weasley, unless you want to repeat what so many of you seem to have said, shut it."

"We.Said.No."

"Watch it Spinnet."

"NO!"

It took all our energy, but we screamed the last word at him, and walked into the building (still very slowly), up to the common room, and into our dorms, Wood –that bastard- screaming at us all the way.

And, as I write this, I _still_ have cramps in my legs, I _still_ have pains shooting up my back, and I _still_ don't feel like I can take another step.

Angelina, who seems to be only having trouble with her feet, has put another cup of coffee in front of me. She deserves a place in Heaven, next to God.

"Still hurting?"

Lee Jordan's just come up to the table, to where the quidditch team (minus Oliver, who didn't seem to care that he had been turned into a giant bird once because of being a hypocrite, and was now snogging that damn Hufflepuff beater), and is smiling at us.

I'd throw my coffee at him if I could lift my arm that high.

Katie, who somehow can, has just thrown her water at him.

Bless her.

----

Thank Merlin the rest of the day went by quickly. Teachers seemed to take pity on us, and we left classes with a significantly smaller pile of homework.

Speaking of homework, I really should be doing that right now, instead of writing in this. There's this one formula for arithmancy that just doesn't make sense. So I'm going to go do that.

----

Well. That was beyond weird.

Earlier this evening I had, as I wrote here, gone to work on my arithmancy homework, and was sitting in the library biting my nails (which is a filthy habit that I can't seem to break), when a deep, Scottish voice suddenly says.

"You have to replace the x variable with 15, and continue from there."

Was that Oliver's voice? It couldn't be, right?

Wrong-o. Wood took a seat next to me and pointed to the question that was bugging me.

"And you forgot to carry the one."

I gaped at him, and he rolled him eyes.

"Just because I'm a bastard –yes, I know you've called me that quite a few times, Spinnet- on the quidditch pitch doesn't mean I am everywhere else."

So, with that, Oliver proceeded to help me with the rest of the questions, and fixed the first one, which had somehow ended up being one hundred and twenty three off of the correct final product.

And, with all the joking, laughing, and correcting-of-questions we did, I completely forgot to bug him about Sheila Kay, and him being a traitor. However, I did manage to punch him a few times about practice last night –because I could now lift my hand up high enough to do that-, and I did manage to mention how much I hurt.

But that didn't matter when he smiled, said "Practice after dinner tomorrow." And left the library.

Is it wrong my heart fluttered a bit?

Wait. No-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o. I did not just write that. I am completely unchanged in my views about Oliver.

And I did not just stare at his ass as he left.

(A/N- George who? Heh, don't worry, I know what I'm doing with this. Or, I think I do. Review, review, review P)


	7. Revenge and Red Paint

**Welcome back!- **I recently realized I've been completely leaving Harry out of the team. Pretend I didn't.

…

Oh, right. Reviewers.

**Book Anaconda in the Rain- **I am continuing, partly because I am scared of you, and partly because I love Mac'n'cheese. But honestly, what self-respecting human doesn't? Thanks for the review! (And Katie/Lee? You'll have to keep reading to find out- though it may comfort you to know that I'm a huge fan of the pairing)

**Anamaga-** Meep. Don't hurt me. I messaged you to calm you down. And, as mentioned in my message, I am hopeful to see more of The Parody. Lot's of love (and fear. Meep!)

**Kiricat & mr. arlington-** I can answer you both at once. You'll have to read this chapter to see if anything _actually_ developed between the two. Heheh. 

**iLUVmichi- **Actually, I should have included you with the last review-response thing. You'll just have to read and see…

Anywho….

----

Ah. I now have a reason as to why my heart fluttered when Oliver left the library last night. And believe me, I am _not_ happy about it in the slightest bit. And neither are my friends. In fact, I'm absolutely certain we're absolutely furious about it.

That man is going to pay.

See, when I felt like I was (ugh) crushing on Wood last night, I was. Ew-w-w.

But so was everyone else on the team. See, Wood slipped us something in the team's drinks (a variation of a love potion), and collectively went around to all of us to make sure it worked. Which it did.

I believe he thinks it was his little prank, an hour lasting love potion.

Literally, after I wrote last night's entry, I followed him. Everywhere. All around the castle. Soon, I noticed everyone else on the team, and they noticed everyone else on the team, and we were _all_ following him, and we all got into a fight over who should have been following him. Then, about five minutes before the potion wore off, Oliver snuck away, and when the potion did wear off we couldn't find him to kill him.

So now, instead of going to breakfast, we're all in the Gryffindor common room plotting.

"I say death. Slow and painful, and involving one giant squid."

Angelina swears she nearly kissed him.

"Death is too nice. I say suffering. Lot's of intense pain."

Katie swears she did kiss him.

"No, if we hurt him we get in trouble-"

"-We need something seeming permanent."

Fred and George have spent the better half of the morning swearing to people they didn't kiss him.

"Okay, how 'bout this. Y'know that red face paint that you used on me last year George? We paint him with that –I dunno how yet, maybe when he's sleeping-, and make him think it's permanent. Then, we take the special stuff it needs to come off, put it in water, and dump it over him."

And it seems I got off easy, with just a bit of staring.

"Genius 'Licia. We knew you had it in you." George is beaming, and I blush a bit (and I'm sure I'm not on any potion this time- what the bloody hell?).

Ang and Katie nod as one. "Tomorrow night then? We can sneak into his room, and paint him while he's sleeping –we all know how heavy Wood sleeps." Katie laughed at Ang saying this, and every one of us had a grin on our face. The number of pranks we had pulled on him in his sleeps was too high to count to.

"Then we can spend the morning convincing him that it'll only come off if we put this special cream on-"

"-Which is true Fred."

"Don't interrupt George, it's rude. Anyway, we say it'll only come off if we put this special cream on, but it has to be mixed in water first."

"Knowing him he'll scream bloody murder for us to mix it and water, and-" I interrupted Katie.

"We put it in the water, then pour it over his head! Wow, I _am_ good at this planning stuff."

Everyone's collectively rolled their eyes at me, and I know I should be offended, but I'm too excited about our payback plan to care.

"Anyway 'Licia, you've got Arithmancy with me now. Let's surprise 'em all and get there early."

With George's statement, our group has shifted away from their spots in the common room, and I've grabbed my books to walk to my first class of the day with George.

See, while Angelina, Fred and Lee (who has just stumbled sleepily down the stairs, barely in time for class) opted to take the easy muggle studies course, George, who had decided he got way too much muggle stuff from his father, and me, who's muggle born anyway, went for Arithmancy.

God I wish I hadn't. Arithmancy is the world's most giant evil. Filled with annoying numbers, and patterns I can't solve, I usually end up staying awake 'till 4 AM finishing it.

Anyway, George and I are now walking to class, and seeing as I'm not very good at writing-and-walking, I'll stop now.

----

_**Hey 'Lic. What's the answer to problem four?**_

_Do you honestly think I know?_

_**No… but you're more likely to know than me.**_

_True enough- but that's not saying much, because you don't know that much in the first place, eh George?_

**_Well, no, but- Hey! Not fair. I'm the one who's supposed to do this to you. Not the other way around. You're stealing my bit!_**

_Get over it George. You know you love me._

**_Of course. I'm just worried that you're starting to become like me n' Fred n' Lee. And we wouldn't want that._**

_God no! How 'bout we go back to the old way, where you trick me?_

**_That works. It's so easy to do anyway._**

_That's more like it. So, you excited for tonight?_

**_Yup. I can just imagine the look he'll have when he sees the colour his hands have turned._**

_Thought we were doing his face._

**_Hands too. It'll freak him out._**

_Well I bet you he'll notice his face first._

**_Hands._**

_Face._

**_Hands._**

_Face._

**_Hands!_**

_Face!_

**_How 'bout we make this more interesting then? I bet you 5 sickles that he notices his hands first._**

_Deal. Hey George?_

**_Yes, dear Alicia, brightness of my eyes?_**

_Shuttup. Think Professor Vector always glares like that when she teaches._

**_Doubt it. Reckon we should put the note away?_**

_Yup. Talk to you after class._

**_Okie dokie smokie pokie._**

_Shuttup._

----

"Okay, everyone have their stuff?"

"Katie, we've said five times that we do."

"Don't snip like that at me Lee. I was just checking. And besides, this isn't even "Don't snip like that at me Lee. I was just checking. And besides, this isn't even your revenge anyway."

"Yeah, but you were one of the first to ask me to help."

"Who're you kidding? You volunteered yourself!"

"SHUT UP!" The rest of us collectively screamed at the squabbling pair. Ever since they dated and broke up really badly last year, they'd been doing this a lot.

So, moving on, we were standing outside the staircase to the boy's dorm, preparing to dump red paste on Oliver, and, as we'd told Katie, everything was ready.

"Let's go!" Fred, being the pompous prat he is when it comes to pranks (and I know Ange, who will someday read this when she is married to him –they're totally meant to be, even if only Ange see's that- will be mad at me, so sorry), starts up the staircase.

Grabbing our stuff (which mostly consisted of the face paint and paintbrushes), we followed, everyone suddenly silent, until we reached Oliie's room.

Still silent, we crept in and up to him. We didn't even need to be as quiet as we were. After all, a 9.3 earthquake could happen and he wouldn't wake up.

Then was the fun part. We painted.

And painted.

And painted.

Until his hands were completely bright red, and his face was covered in lovely little patterns (half of which were my doing), none of us talked. With a final design (a heart just above his left eyebrow), Lee grinned.

"Sufficient enough for your payback?"

The Gryffindor team nodded and grinned as one, and we headed out, to bed.

That was last night. I'm now just about to head out to breakfast, hoping we beat Oliver there so we can see him run down there screaming like a lunatic. Which won't be too horribly different than normal.

Ange is pulling at my robes, and so I have to stop writing now, content with the fact that I am not in love with Oliver, and that I'm not in love with anyone else (who will not be named because it's not important), I just enjoy compliments.

----

Can't write long. Just recording what happened at breakfast.

We were all sitting at the Gryffindor Table, eating a large portion of very tasty scrambled eggs, when our dear quidditch captain came running in, screaming.

"WHAT THE **HELL** DID YOU DO TO MY HANDS?"

Damnit. Seems I owe George 5 sickles.


	8. Water cream and Karma

**Hi guys- **I'm sorry to say that this chapter probably won't be as long as you expected for a weeks wait. I've been in and out of the hospital, and just wanted to get /something/ up so I wouldn't have people screaming at me.

Thanks for all the luverly reviews. I'll be careful with the tenses- I've always had a problem with them, and I don't change 'em very well when I actually mean to, so… yea.

Enjoy (as much as you can for a bad, quickly written chapter)

----

Oh god. The look on Oliver's face when we told him what he had to do to get the stuff off was priceless.

He started screaming (_"You have to do **what** to get this off?"_), then moved on to glaring, and finally grabbed the closest one of us (poor Katie), and dragged her up to the common room, the quidditch team (minus Harry, plus Lee) following behind.

"Go to your dorm, get that water-cream thing, and get this bloody stuff OFF MY BODY!"

Seeing as this was deffinently not the time to tell Ollie how wrong that sounded, and to have him yell back what a sick mind I had, I ran along with everyone else to get the bucket of water-cream.

"Man, we're in so much trouble." Lee was complaining as we got into the guys room.

"Shut it Lee. You knew what you were getting into." Of course, our dear Katie had to snip something at him. Lovely.

"Lee, Katie, you've made it perfectly clear that you're in love-"

"-But really, could you wait 'till we're done dumping this over Oliver's head?"

It seemed Fred had taken to finishing Angelina's sentences (aww), and that seemed to be some sort of cue, because all of a sudden everyone was grabbing for the bucket and carrying it downstairs (and by everyone, I mean everyone _except_ Katie and Lee, who were glaring daggers at eachother, us, and Fred's bathrobe. Don't ask).

Finally we'd brought the bucket down –four people collectively trying to carry a small object down stairs is not particularly easy- and over to where Oliver was standing.

"This stuff's going to take off the paint?"

No Oliver. The fifteen times we had to tell you to make you not strangle us were pointless.

"Of course, Ollie dear. Now step over there, will you?"

He did so, and Angelina and I took our hands off the bucket.

"Fred, George, ready?"

"You betcha Angie." Fred grinned at her, and I have to give her props. For all the she was blushing like crazy, the poor lovesick girl, she still managed to give orders.

"Right then. Dump it on him."

"**WHAT?**" Poor Oliver seemed to catch on, but at the last second, as Fred and George collectively poured the whole contents of the bucket over his head.

Everyone, this time including Katie and Lee, who had joined us last-second, burst out laughing. 'Course, we stopped right away when we saw Oliver advancing towards us.

And, me being the idiot that I am, thought it would help to say the first thing that came to mind.

"Karma's a bitch, isn't it?"


	9. George and Fred

**Thanks-** to everyone who has reviewed and stuck with me. I swear, even though this week's is short, the next one won't be. I'll make it up to you somehow.

----

George Weasley confuses me.

It's a week since my last entry, and things have been pretty quiet. Other than a date for the first Hogsmede weekend (the one after this), I can't name anything exciting, different, or confusing.

Except what George pulled on me, which was all-in-one.

It was Friday, which meant that George and I had Arithmancy (ugh) first class of the day. So we headed out together, and we've just sat down in class when he tosses me a note.

Smooth, eh? Teacher isn't there yet; he's sitting right next to me, yet he sees a reason to pass a note. Meh. I don't try to pretend I understand him.

_Hey Alicia, can I ask you something?_

_You just did._

_**Oh, haha, clever. Anyway, can I?**_

_Since when do you ask for permission, in a note no less? And you just asked another._

**_Should I take that as a complicated yes?_**

_You should._

**_Good. So, you know Hogsmede weekend is coming up, right?_**

_THAT'S your question? I was standing next to you when I read the message board._

**Okay, okay, stupid question. Anyway, do you , well, want to go with me?**

_I always go with you. The whole group goes._

**_No, that's not what I mean. I mean with just me._**

_Oh._

**_Oh? That's all you have to say?_**

_Urr…_

**_Well aren't you monosyllabic today? Come on- you know you want to._**

_Yeah, I guess…_

And that'd be a yes, of course.

_Yeah, whatever. Now shuttup, Prof. Vector's here._

And, even thought I was supposed to be listening to the magical properties of the number three, I couldn't help thinking.

I just agreed to go out, on a date, with George Weasley. _George Weasley._

What did I just get myself into?

----

"And you said yes?"

"I already told you Katie, I did."

"That's great!" Katie squealed that night in the common room. Which would have been less annoying had I not been trying to copy the notes of a Ravenclaw friend who had been paying attention that morning.

"Yeah, yeah. Got an extra quill Angie?"

Angelina nodded quietly and handed me one, looking quite sullen.

"Ang?"

"Hmm?"

"What's wrong hun?"

She took a deep breath, which meant she was about to completely vent her frustrations.

"Well, you've just managed to get a date with George, without wanting it or trying to get it, so basically with no effort whatsoever. Me, I blush whenever Fred gets near me, and he doesn't even see me. How is that fair?"

Mm. Should've seen this coming.

Fortunately, I didn't have to say anything, because Katie broke in.

"Oh, I am so sick of this! It's just like Alicia- you're oblivious to the fact that he likes you! Well that's it."

And she got up, pulled Fred over (_'Oww! What the hell?'_), and glared at Ang. When she didn't say anything (but what was she supposed to say, at this point none of us knew what she was planning), Katie rolled her eyes and turned her attention to Fred, who was rubbing the spot on his arm where Katie had pulled him.

"Angelina wants to know if you want to go to Hogsmede with her.'

I swear, Angelina's eyes widened to about twice as big as they were before, though I didn't have much time to see it as she buried her face in her hands, muttering things like 'Stupid Katie' and 'Oh my god.'.

Over and over.

"Urr, sure. Tell Angelina I said yes."

And Fred (who seems to be just as falsely smooth as his brother) walked off with that.

The Weasley twins are weird.


	10. Katie and Lee

**To everyone still reading this and isn't mad at me- **Thank you. Life has been crazy hectic, and when you mix that in with the fact that I've had no inspiration for this story, it doesn't add up well.

Major apologies for the major short chapter. I swear, absolutely SWEAR, that as soon as life slows down, I'll start writing up some really long ones.

----

You remember my last entry? Me and George, Angelina and Fred, heading to Hogsmede together?

Well, we (by which I mean me 'n' Ang) decided to try and find someone for Katie too, because we figure it's not good for her to keep jumping from guy to guy at fourteen.

Okay, really, we want to get her together with Lee. But shush.

(It's just occurred to me. I just shushed my journal. **My journal.** I'm absolutely mad.)

Since we only had 5 days before Hogsmede, we had a lot of work to do. Especially since Katie and Lee couldn't spend five minutes together.

"'Lic?"

"Yeah?"

"What are we going to do about _them_?"

Angelina and I were sitting in the common room discussing _them._ Our two should-be-together-amigos. Soulmates. Togethers-to-be.

Yeah. Katie and Lee. Incase you couldn't gather that.

"We could imperius them, and force them to go out with eachother."

"Let's go for something a bit more legal."

"I don't see you coming up with anything."

"You can't _see_ me come up with anything. You'd _hear_ it."

Very clever Angelina. That was just her excuse for not having to say anything. She seems to find a sick, twisted pleasure in shooting my ideas down.

I don't know why. I have very good ideas. I mean, imperius-ing them would work perfectly.

(I'll ignore the whole fact that I would then go to Azkaban. It's not important.)

"What if we lock them in the divination room, put Trelawny under the imperius cursee, have her tell them they're meant to be, then have her put them under the imperius curse so that they spend the rest of their days together."

"What is it with you and the imperius curse? You're mad, y'know?"

"Of course. But that's not getting us any closer to fixing up _them._"

----

I'm so so so sorry for the awful chapter. I mean, seriously, I had no inspiration. I'm starting to think I don't even _want_ to continue this, that's how stuck for ideas I am. Can anyone help?


End file.
